From yards away, I saw her. Seated in a yoga pose on the brown bench, her back to the early morning sun, my quiet musing was interrupted.
Like a dog that sniffs at the air, I sniffed at the aura surrounding her and within a stone throw, I saw the unwitting frown line that dug into the sides of her lips; they were at odds with the smoothness of her forehead.
She raised a flask, took a sip and dropped it, all the time her right fingers tapped on her phone with speed that belied her pose. I watched her with more interest as I drew closer, my brisk steps slowed down a notch. I saw a tear as it escaped and raced down her pinkened cheek.
It could have been easier to avert my eyes and pretend I neither saw her nor witnessed her private pain. I didn’t want…
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